Pollination
by squerrilla
Summary: It’s a plant, Master. How can it be angry?" A little story from two points of view. Anakin/Obi-Wan SLASH.
1. Anakin

Anakin lets out a string of curses, ignoring Obi-Wan's raised eyebrow to kick the soft wall of the gigantic vegetation that encases them, before slumping, sulkily, to sit on the lower portion of the curved surface.

A creaking groan surrounds them and Obi-Wan looks around warily. "I hope you haven't made it angry."

"It's a plant, Master. How can it be angry?"

"Well it seemed very capable of protesting when you attempted to cut your way out." Obi-Wan frowns towards the small scar of lightsaber burn on a thick frond of dark pink plant matter directly above Anakin's head.

"If you'd let me continue, we would have been in orbit by now," Anakin says grumpily, flicking open his comlink.

"I'm fairly certain it will open again in the morning," Obi-Wan replies, "as I'm sure your infallible droid friend will tell you."

Anakin scowls as he turns his gaze to the display, scanning the information as it appears. Obi-Wan's sarcasm is hard enough to bear at the best of times, and he knows it's going to be even worse when his Master finds out who Anakin suspects was responsible for their unscheduled landing on this mysterious planet.

"Well? Am I right?"

Anakin closes the device with a snap. "Don't know. It said the plants are not carnivorous, and the nectar is harvested to make some sort of cordial, but after that the message was scrambled."

Obi-Wan looks smug, and mutters something about loose wires.

Anakin ignores the comment and conceals a smile, poking his finger into one of the liquid-filled cavities in the flower's central column then taking a tentative suck. Okay, there was just one tiny detail about this stuff that he left out, but he has to make this night enjoyable somehow. Obi-Wan has left him no choice.

Two hours later, Anakin sits, legs stretched out before him, body propped against Obi-Wan's side, resting his head lazily on the other man's shoulder. He smiles happily, and tries to crane his neck to see the stars between the shadowy bars of their temporary organic prison. Obi-Wan stops singing to laugh as Anakin twists too far and nearly falls over, but the laughter is quickly silenced as Anakin's lips somehow stumble into his.

_Oops_. Anakin makes _mmm_ noises and thinks how nice Obi-Wan tastes, a mixture of the sweet nectar they have been drinking and something more earthy. Vaguely recollecting some sort of secret fantasy he pushes the other man down into soft floor and lowers his mouth to find those lips again, feeling a flash of electricity through his intoxicated body as Obi-Wan's tongue slides across his.

A few short moments later Anakin frowns in confusion and disappointment as Obi-Wan insistently pushes him away. Anakin sits up abruptly then immediately groans as the walls and floor seem to spin around him. He feels gentle hands guide him back down to lie on his side, and a brief caress across his forehead before he blacks out.

In the morning Anakin awakens to the sight of Obi-Wan fast asleep at the other side of the flower's cavity, amusingly covered in small balls of yellow fluff. He attempts to recall the events of the previous day but finds only a void, glancing down at his own body to notice it too is covered in what appears to be this strange plant's pollen. As Obi-Wan sneezes himself awake, Anakin looks up, happy to find an expanse of blue sky and warm sunshine.

Back at the Temple, Anakin examines Artoo and finds the navigation problem was, to his horror, caused by a loose wire. But when Obi-Wan returns from his visit to the archives, hair still tinged yellow from the staining pollen, the Jedi Master thankfully seems, for once, to be distracted, and apparently forgets to ask.

Relieved to escape mortification, Anakin dumps the bits of droid on the coffee table, and strides past Obi-Wan to get a drink from the kitchen, wiping his oily hands on the seat of his pants and noticing his Master is obviously not too distracted to raise a disapproving eyebrow. Anakin grins, swinging open the door of the chiller and grabbing a random can of cordial, trying to think manly thoughts as he notices the floral design on the side of the tin. He watches through the door with amusement as Obi-Wan shakes his head at the mess, and then takes a swig of the drink, finding that, for some reason, the sweet taste conjures up mysterious but nice memories of gentle hands and love songs.


	2. ObiWan

Anakin lets out a string of curses, and Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, watching in amusement as the younger man kicks the soft wall of the gigantic vegetation that encases them before slumping, sulkily, to sit on the lower portion of the curved surface.

A creaking groan surrounds them and Obi-Wan looks around warily. "I hope you haven't made it angry."

"It's a plant, Master. How can it be angry?"

"Well it seemed very capable of protesting when you attempted to cut your way out." Obi-Wan frowns towards the small scar of lightsaber burn a thick frond of dark pink plant matter directly above Anakin's head.

"If you'd let me continue, we would have been in orbit by now," Anakin says, flicking open his comlink.

"I'm fairly sure it will open again in the morning," Obi-Wan replies, "as I'm sure your infallible droid friend will tell you."

He watches Anakin turn his gaze to the device's small display. Obi-Wan suspects Artoo is responsible for this mix-up, and the scowl on Anakin's face does nothing to persuade him otherwise. He also knows Anakin is rather mortified at the prospect of having to spend the night trapped inside a flower. But of course, that was not why Obi-Wan had insisted it to be necessary. No. Not at all.

"Well? Am I right?"

Anakin closes the device with a snap. "Don't know. It said the plants are not carnivorous, and the nectar is harvested to make some sort of cordial, but after that the message was scrambled."

Obi-Wan can't resist a satisfied smile. "Another loose wire?"

But Anakin ignores him and is busy poking his finger into one of the liquid-filled cavities in the flower's central column.

Obi-Wan looks away quickly from the too-erotic sight of Anakin sucking the nectar from his finger, and tries to distract himself by trying to remember if he has come across this particular specimen of flora in his study of the botanical archives. He vaguely recollects reading something, but he can't remember the details. He shakes his head, thinking he must be getting old.

Two hours later, Obi-Wan finds himself unusually happy, and to his surprise, singing enthusiastically. For some reason, right now it feels good to sing. He can't even recall, just at the minute, where he'd first heard this song. He just knows it makes him think of someone whose blond head is currently resting on his shoulder, and who is at least partially responsible for making him feel a little bit giddy.  
_  
Please forgive me,  
If I act a little strange  
For I know not what I do.  
Feels like lightning running through my veins,  
Every time I look at you.  
_  
Obi-Wan knows he's slurring the words, and he knows that nectar they have both drunk in large quantities must have contained something pretty intoxicating, but _actually_ he doesn't care, because Anakin is lounging comfortable against him, and everything, for once, seems to be going fantastically well with the galaxy.  
_  
Help me out here  
All my words are falling short  
And there's so much I want to say  
Want to tell you just how good it feels  
When you look at me th-  
_  
Anakin twists a little and tilts his head comically then Obi-Wan's singing dissolves into laughter as the body next to him wobbles unstably. He lurches to catch the younger man but misses, suddenly finding his laughter silenced by Anakin's mouth which has somehow managed to fall against his. Lost in the headiness of what is quickly becoming a drunken kiss, Obi-Wan can barely contain a groan at the noises Anakin starts making, although he already feels a nagging of sobriety when the kiss ends and strong but slightly fumbling hands push his body back to the ground. A second later Anakin's soft lips are sliding against his again, and his tongue is there too, and Obi-Wan frantically tries to lock away the memory, at the same time knowing that this cannot happen, not here, not now. He allows himself just a few a moments longer to kiss Anakin back, pushing the younger man off him almost desperately as his control begins to slip.

Anakin sits up abruptly then groans and sways dizzily. Obi-Wan, having recovered his breathing, tilts his head to one side, taking in the rather charming sight of his oh-so-fearsome warrior befuddled and vulnerable. He carefully guides the younger man down to a comfortable lying position, arranging his limbs so he is safely on his side, and brushes a finger over the frown on his forehead. Anakin's eyes are already closed. With a small, sleepy smile, Obi-Wan watches the boyish face until it becomes peaceful, then gets to his feet and makes his way unsteadily across the spongy floor to the other side of the chamber.

In the morning Obi-Wan awakens with a sneeze and the sight of Anakin grinning at him from the other side of the flower's cavity, amusingly covered in small balls of yellow fluff. Obi-Wan attempts to recall the events of the previous day but finds only a void, glancing down at his own body to notice it too is covered in what appears to be this strange plant's pollen. He follows Anakin's gaze and looks up, happy to find an expanse of blue sky and warm sunshine.

Back at the Temple, Obi-Wan looks up the strange planet in the archives, and smiles when he finds a familiar picture of an unusual gigantic flower. Yes, that's it. The _Lillium_ flower. He reads the brief text which describes how the plant attracts creatures with its sweet nectar, not to digest them over a thousand years like the notorious _Sarlacc_, but to simply trap them until morning and then release them to carry and spread its pollen.

As he strolls back to their quarters, hoping that, for once, that Anakin hasn't disassembled his droid on the coffee table again, Obi-Wan finds himself smiling at vague and mysterious memories of soft lips and strong hands. He runs a hand through the hair he hopes is no longer yellow, and wonders if the Lillium's pollen could be capable of inducing sweet dreams too.


End file.
